"Mr. Ackerman," Dr. Ral laid her clipboard on her lap as she leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. "We've talked about coping mechanisms for your anxiety -"

"Petra," Levi slumped against his chair and held his chin in his hand. "How many times do I have to tell you that I -"

"- don't have anxiety," she finished, eyeing him over the rim of her slim glasses.

She brushed her hair behind her ear and sighed.

"May I be frank with you," she chewed her lip.

Huffing, he nodded.

"You're going through a time of mourning, mourning the loss of the standard of normal you've been accustomed to, and that's okay. And mourning means the stages of grief, one of which is denial."

Levi rolled his eyes.

"You're in denial that you have anxiety, but you're bordering on agoraphobic at this point -"

"- I'm not agoraphobic: I'm introverted!"

"And we've talked about this as well. Levi, the first step we need to take is defining what it means to be introverted versus having Generalized Anxiety Disorder."

Dr. Ral straightened and looked at her feet, fidgeted with her blazer's lapel.

"If we can't even do this," she held his eye, "then I have other therapists I can recommend that would be able to help you more than me."

Levi sat up, almost jumped out of his seat while Petra ignored him to scribble something on a sticky note. He really was not about to start all over with a new therapist. She handed the note to him.

"Here's a book I liked. It helps to differentiate between extroversion, introversion, and issues like anxiety."

And that was how Levi found himself wandering the skyscraper-like library aisles. His nose scrunched up at the smell of old lady perfume and lemon-scented Febreeze, the shitty kind in the little plastic bottle that attaches to wall corners and sprays obnoxiously all over your head.

Levi clicked his tongue as he trudged up and down the same aisle, thumbing the sticky tab of Dr. Ral's note. The book she recommended was "Quiet" blah blah blah by Susan Cain, and her last name started with a "C". So why the fuck couldn't he find the goddamn book? It should be near eye level for him -

His collision with a blond brick wall of rolled up sleeves and relaxed tie broke his train of thought. When he caught those hellishly blue eyes, he swallowed every dirty curse he had for the shit head.

'The gorgeous shit head,' his brain corrected himself.

"Oh," the Adonis took a step back with a shit eating grin that could cure cancer, "I didn't see you there."

Levi reeled, brows shooting up into his hairline as he craned his neck back to look up at this asshole.

'Gorgeous -'

'No,' he caught his dumb brain before it could finish that petulant thought.

"Yeah, well, I thought the Berlin Wall was taken down a few years ago," Levi grumbled and internally cringed at his shitty comeback.

Crumpling his pink sticky note, he jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from boot to boot while the guy chuckled beside him before returning to examine the book shelves. The man bent over with a hand tapping his clean shaven chin, squinting at the titles. Swallowing, Levi glanced at the book spines and back to the blond. Levi marveled at the fact they were almost the same height when the guy was bent in half, but then he straightened himself, a chiseled hand on his hip.

Could hands be chiseled? Levi'd have to ask Farlan the Art Major ™ .

And, as Levi outright stared at Tall Shitface, he noticed the red title of his doctor-recommended book just above his perfectly pommaded hair. When Levi realized he had the perfect opportunity to prolong an awkward conversation with this Chris Evans-esque stranger, he died both inside and outside.

Levi spun on his heel and whipped out his phone, frantically texting Isabel.

Levi: 911 hottie library.

Then he whipped back around just in time to catch said hottie clipping his fancy ass pen to his breast pocket with one hand not so casually hidden behind his back.

"Uh," Levi's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards the bookcase and pointed to the second highest shelf, "can you get a book down for me?"

"Sure," the guy all but chirped. "Which one?"

"It's gray with a red title: Quiet by Susan Cain."

"This one?"

"Yeah."

Adonis plucked the book down and flipped through it. Then, he turned towards Levi and stared him down as he slipped a business card into its pages before tucking it into an extra space on the shelf just above where it had been originally.

"What the fuck," Levi hissed.

Blondie stifled a laugh, shrugging. Levi, with a completely straight face, placed one boot on the bottom shelf and his other on the next shelf. He locked eyes with Asshole as he climbed up the shelves to grab his book. Glaring with his prize in hand, he jumped down before striding away without a second look over his shoulder.

Well, he didn't look back until he was at the self check out, thumbing through the pages until he found the business card.

'Erwin Smith,' the card's front read, 'Local Attorney at Law.' Along the edge of the business card was an inky arrow pointing towards its back. Levi turned it over to find Erwin's shakily written phone number.

And that was the story of how Susan Cain got Levi laid - eventually.